


jus drein jus daun!

by Prettything_uglylie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Commander Lexa (The 100), F/F, F/M, Grounder Culture, Grounder John Murphy (The 100), Lexa Lives (The 100), M/M, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: "I was not," Lexa admits gently, her eyes the same green of the trees directly outside of the dropship when they first landed and Clarke is lost in them just as they had lost others in those woods, "completely honest with you about all of my losses."
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Indra/Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Anya/Echo (The 100), Bellamy Blake/John Murphy, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Costia/Lexa (The 100), Echo/Luna (The 100), Echo/Raven Reyes, Gustus/John Murphy (The 100), Indra & John Murphy (The 100), Indra/Marcus Kane, John Murphy & Roan (The 100), John Murphy/Roan (The 100), Lexa & John Murphy (The 100), Luna/Raven Reyes, Monty Green/Nathan Miller, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 19
Kudos: 36





	1. 𝓼𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓭𝓪

**Author's Note:**

> Though no one truly asked, I decided to take a shot at writing Murphy as a Grounder because I fell in love with the concept. I'm a big fan of this and I hope you like this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Ice Queen's scrawl, the words Lexa will never forget were burned: 
> 
> You should watch your possessions more carefully, Heda. Would hate for them to wander out of your land. We will keep the boy until Trikru proves itself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: grounder murphy fic!!   
> also me: does not have murphy appear officially 
> 
> listen, this kind of acts as a pre-indicator of murphy being around and a bit of a prequel, okay? I'm also worried about how I did with Clarke's perspective but I do know I made myself miss Finn sooo I think it's alright!

"I lost someone special to me too," The Heda admits and Clarke is lost in the press of her presence against her shoulder, in the smoke filling her lungs, in the memory of Finn that feels like it's fading. She can't fully remember what his smile looks like anymore but remembers him standing alone over a pile of bodies, remembers Bellamy's guilty expression and his gentle _**I shouldn't have sent him out there alone** _but no one blamed him and no one blamed Clarke, or their parents, or the adults who sent them down to their deaths. It was easier to blame Finn than to acknowledge that he was just a byproduct. 

Her hands are gentle on the staff her second-in-command had handed her and Clarke is thrown by the idea of associating this woman with the word _**gentle** _but her voice is soft and speaks words that pour over her like the way golden honey melts or the memory of the way the taffy Wells used to give her would melt on her tongue. She wonders if Finn would have liked it. She knows the boy he was before he lost himself down here on the Ground, would have. The taffy or Lexa's voice, she isn't sure of which she's referring to anymore. 

"Her name was Costia." Her voice is firm and she seems painfully articulate - it makes Clarke worry irrationally that one day she will speak so factually about Finn. Lexa makes her worry irrationally, "She was captured by the Ice Nation, whose queen believed she knew my secrets."

There is a moment, a pause that passes through them and it buries in Clarke's stomach so tightly that she loses the feeling of being able to breathe properly. There is no happy ending to this story she knows without asking, the tragedy exists in the dark cuts of Lexa's warpaint and the unphased stoicism of her beautiful green eyes. 

"Because she was mine," Clarke's breathe is hard to come out at a moment's notice and she feels bad, like she's done something awful, like she's broken the end of one of her drawing pencils or like she's gotten someone she loves killed. It's the nauseating feeling of attraction and dread she has learned to associate with Lexa, "they tortured her, killed her, cut off her head." 

"I'm sorry." She doesn't have words left - that's all there is sometimes. Lackluster apologies for lives you weren't responsible for and never knew the true loss of. It felt like her apology to Raven for killing Finn. 

There is a sharp inhale from Lexa and the Arker glances at the older girl and truly sees her - the girl can't be older than twenty-one and carries brokenness in her browline. She feels that crushing feeling again, like she's doing something wrong again, it nauseates her and infuriates her in one fatal swoop, "I thought I'd never get over the pain, but I did." 

"How?" Clarke's mind is swimming in the idea of getting over this angry burn of helpless grief in her chest just to have the sensation of it ever ease away. 

The Commander's shoulders roll back firmly and a twitch partakes in her jawline. Her jawline is sharp and makes Clarke feel like she's being held at knifepoint. Her voice is a practiced firmness but wavers slightly as she starts the statement, "By recognizing it for what it is... weakness." 

_It,_ she thinks and her head spins: she is separating herself from the concept altogether and ignoring her own pain for the sake of _what? Of what pay-off? What end can this ignorance come to? More pain?_ "What is? Love?" 

Lexa's corresponding nod is tight, a letter that never was received by its sender, the _I love you too_ she had owed Finn on that stoop near the lake and had never given him. It didn't matter anymore - his ashes don't care for the words. 

She is still attempting to piece it together. She imagines not missing Jasper and Monty's arms around her in a hug in Mount Weather or not feeling the buzz of platonic companionship around Bellamy, or the wench of guilt every time she sees Raven. She imagines not missing Finn already. She can't at all. "So, you just stopped caring? About everyone?" 

Another nod stems from Lexa, a single jerk, a firm movement that requires people to watch her every muscle twitch but Clarke suspects that it is a habit from people watching her every moment - the blonde finds herself surprised that The Commander is even allowed to be alone with her unchecked like this. 

"I could never do that." She scoffs and after doing that, she is aware of the disrespect it represents as well as just how much it makes it sound like she's putting herself above Lexa in moral high grounds. She isn't like Raven pointed out _she's the only murderer there._ She's still covered in Finn's blood no matter how she scrubs at her hands. 

She had scrubbed her own hands raw. Chaffed and bloodied in the corners, Bellamy had folded one of his dirty hands over hers - and she had tried not to flinch but she did but they both pretended she hadn't - and had said, "You're clean." in the same tone she had told him he was forgiven and her head had spun. Bellamy was the thing grounding her right now and when she thinks of him stringing Atom up for kissing Octavia and other small irrational things he had done, the thought terrifies her. 

She wonders if Octavia feels like this. 

Lexa's eyes are on her suddenly, sharpened back into the blade that hadn't carried in her eyes when she had talked about _Costia_ \- it was a nice name, Clarke thought absently, it fit in Lexa's mouth like she owned it - and her tongue is the worst dagger Clarke has ever seen someone turn their own tongue into, "Then you put the people you care about in danger, and the pain will never go away."

Clarke doesn't know if the pain goes away or if it fades over time like people say it does - she can still her father's face as he's floated when she thinks about it, but she can't remember what he smells like when they used to hug. Lexa's face calms with the irrational look that must be present in her eyes and Clarke curses how people can read her - the irrational way she thinks of Lexa, the older girl must know already and everyone must be aware of the blood she carries on her hands, the molten ash at her feet in every step.

Lexa's voice is almost concerned, almost gentle in that way that makes Clarke feel fragile but also hypervigilant. Like none of Lexa's kindness is real. She almost worries it is - that would render her without a monster to hate, "The dead are gone, Clarke. The living are hungry."

* * *

Lexa Kom Trikru had been known for her kindness simply once. 

When she had been a young girl, a _Natblida_ with big goals and sharp instincts, she had been famous for pounding around the stone floor of Polis' marketplace in broken shoes and running with the goods she stole, only being caught up to by _John Murphy_ _Kom Trikru._ In the day, their lucrative business for snatching small and bruised, unnoticeable if taken, had been a good one, one that would bring them to hidden alleyways behind Polis' tall buildings or into the trees outside of Polis, into them where they would sit up on adjacent roots and talk for hours. 

_John Murphy Kom Trikru_ was a strange case for many, Lexa included. The boy, if stories are to be believed was born at the same time as another warrior named John who happened to be his neighbor and neither women had been willing to give up the name so _Analise_ Kom Trikru had borrowed one of the names she had seen carved in stone placards to give him a second name - it was bizarre and irrational, and Lexa loved it. Lexa loved him, he was a brother inherited to her when his father had been killed by Azgeda for unknown slights and his mother had turned to the _souda_ and would _ses op_ with many men to retain the drink. 

He would remain her brother throughout the years from meeting at two years old to twelve when she had been raised and taught to be Heda and he had been her biggest push to make a move with Costia - there had been four of them at that time, Costia, Luna, Lexa, and Murphy, but he had never been bothered by being the only man, patience for that type of behavior had died with the fallout. 

Then, she had become Heda, had won the Conclave and had been excited even as the ebony of people she had considered her allies and some her friends stained her clothes. She had ran off the battlefield and into Murphy's arms and had thanked _Pramheda_ that Murphy's blood had painted Polis sidewalks scarlet as children - she didn't think she'd be able to kill him. His grin had matched hers, unstained by the dark blood but touched nonetheless and she had dipped her fingertips into the blood staining her face, blood from an Azgeda boy named Froy she thought, and painted his cheek in mimicry of her own war paint and they had both crackled with the bond of fraternity. Tears had danced in his blue eyes and her chest had been heavy with it and she - _she had won,_ and that had been all that mattered. 

No one had to tell them Luna ran, it had been there the night before in their expressions and one night, tipsy from stolen alcohol because she may get it for free now but he craves the rush of stealing it, he had admitted the night before Luna left, he had heard her come in and he had felt her press her lips to his forehead in a goodbye. He jests at this point in the story every time that he had been expecting his _strisis_ to be seeking him out for comfort so he had kept his arm outstretched for her to join him in bed until the limb had gotten heavy and had fallen on its own. 

She wonders some days if it had. It seemed like Murphy would have for them. 

She had become Heda and Anya had been proud in the thin, tight-lipped smile she had grown to expect from her _seda_ but she no longer felt the joy. 

Lexa had dated Costia and had thrown the idea of marriage between her and Murphy in discussion like they had tossed fruits too bruised to eat between them as children, but one day - one day, Costia had been out with Murphy, Murphy there to watch her because Lexa knew he could, in a game of knife-throwing until they had both been taken. 

Costia's head was returned to her bed with one of Murphy's knives embedded in the slight flesh left of her neck, and like a pigeon on a string, a note dangled from one of the holes crafted by time in her _bro_ 's knife. 

In the Ice Queen's scrawl, the words Lexa will never forget were burned: 

_You should watch your possessions more carefully, Heda. Would hate for them to wander out of your land. We will keep the boy until Trikru proves itself._

Sitting on the throne two years later, Anya and Costia dead, Luna to never be found and Murphy taken, she didn't feel like she won anymore. 

Lexa wasn't known for being _nice_ anymore. 

* * *

"I was not," Lexa admits gently, her eyes the same green of the trees directly outside of the dropship when they first landed and Clarke is lost in them just as they had lost others in those woods, "completely honest with you about all of my losses."

The words come out of nowhere and surprise Clarke out of her shock of how exactly to escape this cage with Pauna on the other side but she looks to the Grounder questioningly, "What?" 

"His name was _Murphy,"_ Lexa grits out from between her ivory canines and Clarke thinks about how dangerous and how gentle Lexa can look at the same time - injured but ready for the fight. 

She wonders if this was another lover for a moment. The familiarity of having loved both Finn and having a crush on Raven _and perhaps, that growing trepidation Lexa has on her_ not lost upon her but there is something in her eyes, something like how Bellamy looks at Octavia. 

" _Brother."_ She whispers and hisses as she shifts her grip on her wounded arm, "He is still alive, but he is no longer mine." 

The plan hits Clarke and she knows how to get them both out of her. She locks eyes with the Grounders' Queen, with their equivalent of a God and says, "Well, you better get ready to see Murphy soon. We're getting out of here." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this! Comments and kudos are what I strive for always!


	2. 𝓰𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓹

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She steps close to Nia, ascending from her throne and making careful steps over to look the Ice Queen into her disgusting, twisted face before challenging, "If you think me unfit to command, issue the challenge and let's get on with it." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I hope you like this! It took me a bit but also, some warnings and stuff:   
> \- murphy is sixteen and gustus is in his twenties in the one flashback but this show has weird age differences already and we don't know if that's when they got together   
> \- me versus throwing flashbacks into each chapter because i have Thoughts and love for it   
> \- i changed the order of some dialogue for dramatic effects   
> \- i have tons of stuff here so i hope you like it still!

"You're fond of her," Murphy notes, lips pulled into that boisterous and firm swell of his smile and he sits beside her. They are both covered in sweat and breathing a bit too heavy to be proper but his surprisingly gentle hands are curled around a goblet of cool water, well if maybe not intended for the both of them, will be consumed by them both. 

She swats at his shoulder halfheartedly before leaning over to snatch the cup from his hands but he pulls the water away from her. She scoffs, lifts a brow, and asks him, "Are you really not going to share?" 

His balled-up fist hits her in the side of the ankle with no pain and comes off more like a tap of comradery than an actual threat. His eyes are rimming with that joyous amusement that Lexa is so fond of on her brother before he hands her the cup more easily than she had expected him to. 

"You're fond of her." He says again, voice tripping over the words slightly and she remembers that his mother, in her drunken stupors, had not often spoken _Gonasleng_ and she had not been a warrior, doubly requiring her to know little of the language. 

She flips over easily and pretends she doesn't notice his grateful glance to her, " _Sha. ai dig in Costia ba yu dig in Gustus."_

Murphy's cheeks flush and he glances to the older warrior, watching over their sessions despite having better things to do than watch some sixteen-year-olds fight even if one is the Commander. Costia's hit lands strong and powerful on _Aline_ and it pulls the breath from Lexa's lungs - she is clad in that same sweat the rest of them are but hers shields her like armor and she is powerful, her black hair and dark skin glinting in the sunlight like a weapon to be unfolded and full of muscle to be wielded. Lexa has a moment where she wonders if she's just as well-built beneath her clothes but banishes her flush into the excuse of sweat. 

" _En's nououska?"_ Murphy murmurs and she swallows the last gulp of his cup of water before realizing he's talking to her. She shakes herself from looking at the muscle of Costia's shoulderblade work under her dark skin to glance between her _bro_ and the high-ranking warrior, who has glanced towards Murphy with an intrigued glint in the twenty-year-old's eye before she nods and solidifies, 

_"Sha."_

"I'll ask him, if you ask her." Murphy lays the deal down in broken Gonasleng before she looks at him, then Costia. Her nod is a single time, one firmed by her own actions and she hears Murphy scramble away, leaving the goblet behind forgotten and heading over to Gustus. 

She stands, ready to ask the girl she loves, out - 

* * *

The scrap of her bedroom chamber's door opening wakes her from her sleep-induced memory. The slide of the door on her bedroom is loud and isn't properly shaven down so the scrap echoes through the room and grates against the floor's stone. 

Titus stands before her, hands clasped in one another, and dress clothes stained a dark grey. Without saying, they both know what today is and neither take too much pride in it. 

Today is execution day.

* * *

Nia enters the throne room, pulling in the feel of dark cold ice that comes with her and her nation into the room as well - an intruder on so many fronts. 

But she is weakened. No longer the powerful queen she has nightmare after nightmare over imagining her thin tiers curling into a cruel smile as she listens to them torture Costia or her spindly old hands reaching down to cut her love's head off with her brother's knife. She is in chains and on a death sentence for what she has done to _Skaikru_. 

And the sentence seems clear into the moment that they begin to drag her down to where she will be prepared for her execution - executions are only sometimes private affairs but with the person of interest being the other Queen, they would need to make it a public execution, one to instill a message and fear inside of _Azgeda_ so they will not strike _Trikru_ or _Skaikru_ again. 

But then the ambassadors protest. First, _Sankru_ and then many others join them in their stand, the same _Commander no longer_ falls from their lips except Clarke does not join them. 

Clarke with her blonde-plaited hair and her hesitant smile and her initial attempts at peace or something better for them, Clarke who fights for her people even when risking her own life, Clarke with her strange naivety. Clarke, who is the only woman Lexa could imagine loving after Costia's death. 

Clarke, who channels that strange naivety into the almost scared questioning, "Commander, what is this?" 

Lexa can hear the fear creeping into her tone but she knows without any uncertainty that the other Ambassadors of the 13 Clans questioning her ultimately means a death sentence for herself. If she cannot prove her strength, they will overrun Polis' kingdoms and they will kill her and there could be a war for who would fill the role of _Heda_ after her - a war which Clarke and Skaikru would not survive as they would disband her work and execute those she loves. 

Her eyes are almost full of that same kindness she used to be known for when she looks to Clarke and explains, "This is a coup." 

Clarke's sky blue eyes are filled with confusion and a strange terror and Lexa's jaw does not usually allow the word 'affectionate' to slip through without crunching it between her teeth but the feelings in her chest lean to stronger than affectionate so she allows the lesser sentence to fall over her shoulders. 

Nia's smile is evil and her eyes the shades of glass that carves into the bone instead of making painted glass-panes or ice that runs through your body and freezes your veins. She stands, more powerful than she should be allowed to be, "This is the law, her law. A unanimous vote of the ambassadors or death are all that can remove a commander from power." 

The sweet swell of Clarke's bottom lip shakes and Lexa is reminded not for the first time that Clarke is only eighteen, only just not-a-child, while she is still only twenty. Clarke protests, "It's not unanimous." 

"We don't recognize the legitimacy of _Skaikru_." Nia dismisses and the dismissal sends Lexa's thoughts spiraling. 

Her life is on the line by the same woman that took the life of her lover, of her mother as well and barred a prisoner to her brother. Some nights when Lexa cannot sleep, she walks the halls of Polis' tower and she remembers running through them with her _bro_ or laying in her bed, she will remember tracing her mouth over the curve of Costia's shoulder as they're curled together in the embrace of lovemaking. Some nights she will sit on the floor of her balcony and stare at the skies of which the new girl she is willing to surrender her love into had fallen from and she can still hear her mother's screams echoing and feel her father's hands holding her back. Nia has always been the one to dismiss, the one to suggest and start a war, Nia has always been the one in control. 

That ends today. 

Her voice is brought back when she hears Nia say, "None of us here want war." because that may be the utmost lie the Commander has ever heard. All Nia has ever wanted is a war, because her armies are ruthless and large and would win but at what cost? At what cost to her own hunger for power? 

"We both know what you want, Nia." She feels herself practically spit and Clarke's eyes on her are almost scared as they glance her over but Lexa knows she is filled with strength, with strength and bravery enough to stand up to the _maungeda_ and enough of everything that builds Clarke Griffin up to the point where Lexa can feel herself spinning down into the love for the other girl. 

She doesn't let her eyes waver too long on her though. If Nia thinks she is significant and if Nia does kill Lexa herself, Clarke would stand no chance if they think she means anything to her but maybe, maybe she could survive this way. 

She steps close to Nia, ascending from her throne and making careful steps over to look the Ice Queen into her disgusting, twisted face before challenging, "If you think me unfit to command, issue the challenge and let's get on with it." 

Nia's grin is as sharp as Lexa's best dagger and follows, "Very well. You are challenged." 

"And I accept your challenge." Lexa nods back once, unwilling to waver or let Nia catch even a moment of vulnerability in her voice, in her spine, in her leadership. The Commander must be strong. 

Titus' eyes are heavy and sad in his skull and his voice is more than a little torn up with he begins with his necessary _Fleimkepa_ spiel. As Lexa glares into the silver of Nia's eyes, she can't help but think about who should be filling the role rather than the older _Fleimkepa_ who had been pulled for another lap where he shouldn't have been, all because _Azgeda_ took Murphy. "So be it. Single combat. Warrior against warrior to the death. _Heda_ , who will fight for you?" 

His eyes are a careful concern, not full of doubt but of fatherly fear and she feels as though she can smell Clarke's fear where her beautiful blue eyes bore into the side of her face. She answers, the challenge her voice, the blade her weapon, and nothing but power steeled there. _"Ai laik Heda. Non an throu daun gon ai."_

Nia's face morphs into the closest she has ever shown to surprise and Lexa settles herself back into the throne. She is the Commander, no one will fight her battles and against Nia, she will win. 

Titus' voice wavers in fear when he asks, eyes still locked on Lexa, "Queen Nia of _Azgeda_ , who will be your champion?" 

Her smile is every bit the sinister demon she has nightmares of when the lights befall her and she thinks of how Costia must have endured whatever torture this sick woman bestowed upon her. 

Nia curls around the name of her loved one too easily and without permission as though she had spit and discarded the name on the ground before Lexa, like his blade stuck in Costia's neck. 

" _Azgeda's_ prisoner. Murphy." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this! Kudos and comments are incredible!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this! Kudos and comments make me happy! Please, I adore them!


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